


Stay With Me

by Lush_Specimen



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Ice, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 10:09:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14952653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lush_Specimen/pseuds/Lush_Specimen
Summary: Cybertron has fallen and the autobots wage war against the decepticons on countless planets across the universe.On a nameless ice world, Optimus Prime sustains a severe injury saving Megatron's life.  Alone on the abandoned battlefield in the middle of a blizzard with a helpless Optimus, Megatron has the opportunity to end the war, if only he could pull the trigger.





	Stay With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Reading all my IDW comics before Unicron shows up and dealing with some Megatron/Optimus feels.

Howling wind drove the snow sideways, whipping across the barren ice plain. Visibility at nearly zero, Optimus Prime had already given the autobots the order to retreat. Megatron snarled and cursed this Primus-forsaken chunk of ice. Temperatures dropped absurdly low, any exposed liquid instantly turned into ice, and soldiers quickly froze to death from minor injuries.

“Starscream!”

“Yes, Lord Megatron.”

“Call the troops back. They’re no good to me frozen.”

“A less magnanimous leader might take this opportunity to press the advantage against our enemies, even at the cost of our own soldiers, but your benevolence knows no bounds, my lord. Your wish is my command.”

Megatron watched his commander take flight in the worsening storm to carry out his orders, shaking his head at the blatant condescension and outright sarcasm in Starscream’s voice. He would deal with him later, right now he had a message to send to this miserable world. 

He strode across the frigid waste land, over the lifeless gray forms of fallen autobots and decepticons alike, priming the massive fusion cannon on his right arm. The blowing ice that swirled around him hissed into steam as the charging cannon radiated warmth across his broad shoulders. The barrel began to glow bright purple as he searched for his quarry.

With a shrieking roar, a hulking form rose up in the gloom. Covered in icy spines, this worm-like beast had decimated both armies, flailing about in the midst of their battle. It had no discernable face, just a gaping maw, studded with fangs and a spiny tail covered in sharp stingers. Towering over Megatron, it lunged forward. Megatron clenched his fist and slowly raised his cannon arm. He waited until the creature was nearly on top of him, then fired a full blast straight down its throat.

“I will not be denied,” Megatron roared as the thing crumpled around him. Satisfied, he turned to rejoin his troops when a force hit him from behind, knocking him to the ground.

“Megatron! Look out!”

In its death throes the creature’s wicked spiked tail whipped around, striking the blue and red bot that pushed him out of the way. Quickly regaining his feet, Megatron fired his cannon again, blasting the tail to pieces. As the crystalline remains of the creature rained down, he stalked over to the figure collapsed face down in the snow, already sure of what he would find. He dug his foot under the prone form and rolled him over, sure enough it was Optimus Prime, one of the icy stingers lodged in his shoulder.

Megatron clenched his fist and began to recharge his fusion cannon. He could end this war, here and now, on a desolate alien world far from their ruined homeland. Without Optimus, the autobots would surely fall apart. Not unlike Megatron and his decepticons, the entire autobot army claimed their victories solely through their leader’s strength of will. Who else could lead them, Bumblebee? Prowl? That reckless sparkling who destroyed Nyon? No. There is only one Optimus Prime, only one with the strength match his own.

The violet glow from the growing power of his cannon washed over Optimus, distorting his trademark paintwork from red and blue to a deep magenta and purple. The corner of Megatron’s mouth tugged upward in a half smile. Purple was definitely his color. He raised his weapon to hover directly over Optimus’ chest. He wanted to funnel all of his considerable power into one blow that would destroy Optimus’ spark and incinerate that horrid artifact that bonded itself to him, the Matrix of Leadership. 

Megatron raged against his intense feelings of betrayal. Optimus had read his poetry, he believed in his ideals of Cybertronian equality. Hell, he once fought his way into the functionist senate to quote Megatron’s treatise at them. The boldness of that stunt almost got him killed, if not for Shockwave’s intervention. Together they were going to change the world. They overthrew the corrupt lineage of Primes, the senate fell before their might. Then Optimus went and made himself a Prime. A Prime! He accepted that accursed trinket and embraced the legacy of everything they fought to change, foolishly believing he could reform the system when the whole thing needed to be burned to the ground. 

His fusion cannon hummed with an abundance of energy, vaporizing the ice and snow, creating a tiny haven from the tumult of the storm. His face impassive, Megatron braced himself, preparing for the massive recoil that will accompany firing a blast so intense. Suddenly, Optimus’ optics flickered, a pale blue light made lavender in the cannon’s glow.

“I’m… so… glad,” he rasped, struggling to remain online, “that you’re okay.” Even while staring down the barrel of Megatron’s primary weapon, he had the audacity to smile. Megatron could hear it in his voice. His optics sparkled before falling dark again.

The blizzard roared over them as Megatron let his arm fall limp, all the gathered energy bleeding rapidly away. He couldn’t do it. After countless battles, here they were again, a wayward miner with dangerous ideas and a naïve cop in over his head. Away from all the armies and advisors, they were simply two lost sparks who wanted only the best for their people swept apart by the storm of their conflicting ideals.

He knelt down beside him and examined the ice stinger that pierced Optimus’ armor. An exploratory touch caused Megatron to withdraw his hand with a snarl. The thing radiated a cold so intense that the briefest touch created sharp ice crystals in all Megatron’s finger joints. Optimus would freeze from the inside out if he didn’t act fast. Megatron steeled himself and grasped the shard. He roared as the pain raced up his arm but he didn’t let go until he extracted the crystalline splinter and cast it away into the howling storm.

Megatron examined Optimus’ wound with partially frozen fingers. His torn fuel lines had iced over, preventing further leakage but allowing ice crystals to circulate through his system. Optimus needed an infusion of warm liquid energon as soon as possible.

“Why is everything so difficult with you,” Megatron grumbled as his pried open his own chest panel, fumbling with fingers made sluggish in the cold. As a miner, he often shared his meager energon rations, he knew his body could function on severely reduced fuel reserves. He shivered as he spliced his main fuel line with Optimus’ frozen one. While his fuel pump worked for the both of them, Megatron hefted Optimus over his shoulder and stalked into the storm. They had sighted the autobot transport ship at the far end of this valley. He could carry Optimus all the way to his own doorstep and then it was up to his troops to take care of him from there.

“Sometimes,” Megatron began quietly, “Quite often actually, I wish things didn’t have to be this way. You knew things had to change, so why did you accept the Matrix? Why do you insist on trying to redeem the legacy of the Primes?” Megatron hesitated, although he asked a question, he already knew the answer. “Oh, who am I kidding,” he sighed, “You’ve always been far too optimistic to accept the harsh realities of the oppressive regime we fought to overthrow. As far as you’re concerned, reform is still possible.”

Megatron stopped to check on Optimus, gently lowering him from his shoulder. Although his energon now coursed through Optimus fuel lines, he remained unresponsive. If it was any other bot, Megatron might be worried, but Optimus possessed an uncanny resilience, combined with his strength of will and unusual luck he seemed able to survive almost anything . He adjusted his grip, to carry Optimus closer to his chest, wrapping his cannon arm around his shoulders.

“Contrary to your innate hopefulness, not all things can be fixed.” Megatron began charging his fusion cannon again in hopes that the heat it generated would help shield Optimus from the frigid wind. “Some things are beyond saving. If you have the courage, you tear it all down and start over. That’s what I’m trying to do for Cybertron. I know you understand, so why can’t you just let me finish what we’ve started?”

Optimus stirred and Megatron halted. How much had he heard? He didn’t intend to say those things out loud, but speaking helped him stay alert, especially when draining his fuel reserves in the extreme cold. Pulling Optimus closer, he scanned his surroundings. The last thing he needed was someone like Starscream discovering his personal rescue mission. Megatron answered to no one, but he still would rather keep this between himself and Optimus alone.

Finally arriving at the side of massive autobot transport ship, Megatron set Optimus down gently at the door and detached their connected fuel lines. He had donated more than he initially intended but like all things he undertakes, he had committed to completing this task properly. Besides he still had more than enough strength to return to his own troops and knock some sense into Starscream, who had likely seized the opportunity to take command during his brief absence. He was just about to bang on the door and slip back into the storm when Optimus reached up and grasped his hand, entwining his fingers with Megatron’s and weakly pulling him back.

“Stay… with me.”

This wasn’t the command of a general or the request of a diplomat. This was a deeply personal plea, unconcerned with protocol or propriety, and probably the most selfish thing Optimus Prime had ever asked. 

“Please…”

When Megatron looked into those flickering optics, so earnest and hopeful, he almost broke. He yearned to drop to his knees, gather Optimus in his arms, and tell him that everything would be okay. His mind raced through the possibilities. They could simply leave, right here, right now. Abandon their armies, the war, the entire race of Cybertronians, and wander the universe together. Just the two of them. The radical prospect simultaneously thrilled and terrified him.

However, hard lesson of Terminus’ disappearance ran through his troubled mind. Nothing and no one is forever, so don’t get attached, focus on the cause above all else. He should tell him “no,” that it was simply impossible. Instead, Megatron gently disentangled his hand and caressed Optimus’ faceplate with his frosted fingers. He cursed his own weakness as he offered a sad smile and whispered, “Perhaps, someday.” 

Before he promised anything more, Megatron pounded on the ship’s door, the heavy blows of his fist echoing loudly in the frigid gloom. When he heard a rush of activity inside the autobot ship, he turned to steal one last glimpse of Optimus.

Optimus had the gall to meet his red optics with a smile so broad that it crinkled the corners of his guileless blue ones, “Then… I look forward to ‘someday’.”

As the ship’s great doors began to creak open and warm light spilled out across the ice, it took every ounce of Megatron’s considerable willpower to turn away from Optimus and back into the cold.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> I appreciate your kudos and welcome comments!


End file.
